The prefect stepped aside. 'Gentlemen, he's all yours.'

There was no preamble. No attempt to try to put the frighteners on the pirate by laying before him the instruments of their trade and letting his imagination go to work. The interrogator with the heaviest build simply stepped up to the chair and slammed his fist into Ajax's face, shattering his nose with a dull crunch. The young man's head cracked against the chair back. There was a moment of stunned silence before he cried out in pain, then Ajax realised what he had done and clamped his mouth shut and opened his eyes wide and glared defiantly back at the interrogator as blood gushed over his lips and dripped on to his chest. The next blow came in from the side, on his cheek, with a soft thud.

Cato and Macro stood to one side, watching in silence as the interrogator went about his work; landing a steady sequence of blows to head and ribs. Although Cato felt sickened by the display of violence he told himself that it was necessary. Ajax had the information that would save him and Macro, and redeem Vitellius, and put an end to the pirates' menacing of the seaways. What was this young man's suffering when measured against all the other factors? And yet Cato felt a wave of disgust wash over him and he wanted no part of this. But he could not leave. Everyone would know that he hadn't the stomach for it, and if word of that spread round the camp he would be a laughing stock. He must affect a cold detachment from the torture being carried out in front of him. Of course, it was easier in the resolution than the act, and when a thick gout of blood splattered on his cheek, Cato felt bile rise in his throat and he swallowed nervously.

After a while Vitellius stepped in and waved the interrogator to one side. It was warm in the tent, and the man's skin glistened as he took a step back from the pirate sagging in the chair.

'That'll do to start with, thank you, Trebius.' Vitellius flashed a smile at the interrogator.'We don't want to damage him too much at this stage.'

The interrogator was taken aback. 'I know what I'm doing, sir. He'll be able to talk for a while yet.'

Vitellius raised his hands. 'Forgive me. I didn't mean to cause any offence. But before we continue… is there anything you want to tell me, young Ajax?'

The pirate was breathing heavily and at first it seemed that he hadn't heard the prefect. Then his head lolled to one side. He opened his eyes and spat out some blood.

'I'll make you pay for this, Roman… I'll make you suffer… And, if you kill me, then my…' Ajax glanced up anxiously for an instant, before his face twisted into a mask of bitter hatred once again. 'He'll make you pay.'

Macro glanced at Cato and spoke softly. 'He?'

Cato shrugged. 'Telemachus, maybe.'

Stepping closer to the prisoner, Vitellius bent forward and said gently, 'Who'll make me pay? Your friend, the pirate chief? You really think so?'

'You're going to die, Roman.'

Vitellius gave a light laugh. 'Friend, we're all going to die. Some just get to die sooner than others. The timing is all that matters in life. Now, you know the questions. I want the answers.'

'Fuck you!' Ajax jerked his head up and spat in the prefect's face.

Vitellius instinctively recoiled, then wiped the bloody spittle off his cheek with the back of his hand. He smiled. 'No, fuck you, you pirate scum.' He nodded at the interrogator. 'Back to work, Trebius. Make it really hurt this time.'

'Yes, sir.' The interrogator turned to his assistant. 'Pass us the cutters…'

Ajax held out for the rest of the afternoon and even Macro was moved to admiration by the young man's courage. Ajax had screamed when the interrogator cut off his little finger, and then gouged out several chunks of flesh, but not once had he begged for it to end, or answered the questions Vitellius put to him. Cato felt more and more sick as the torture dragged out, through one hour, then the next. Just when he felt he must object and try to put an end to this pointless mutilation, the pirate finally gave in, sobbing in terror and agony, as he blurted out a name.

'Vectis terra…' he whispered.

'What's that?' Vitellius leaned closer, straining his ears to catch the word. 'Speak up!'

'Vectis terra…my father's at Vectis terra.'

There was a sudden stillness in the tent as the Romans exchanged a look of surprise. Cato shook his head, angry with himself for missing the now obvious connection between Telemachus and Ajax. Of course their features were similar. And why would so young a man be so highly placed amongst the pirates, unless he had a blood connection with their leader?

Vitellius was the first to speak. 'Now that is interesting. So you are his son.'

Ajax did not respond, but hung his head down and refused to meet the gaze of his captors.

'Well then!' Vitellius could not restrain his delight at the discovery. 'I'm sure you will be of even greater use to us now, Ajax. I wonder… I wonder just how far your father would go for your safe return.'

Ajax spat blood on to the floor. 'I'd rather die!'

'Of course you would. But would he rather you died? That's the question.' Vitellius crossed to the side of the tent, unravelled a map and ran a finger up the dark lines that marked the coastline until he found the place. 'Vectis terra, you say… Hmm, I don't think so. That's too far off the trade routes. Your ships would have to sail for days before they reached their hunting grounds.' He turned round and chuckled. 'Nice try, young Ajax. I knew you'd lie first time. Now we'll have the truth, if you please.'

The prisoner hung his head in despair as the prefect crossed back to him.

'Come now, Ajax. We will make you tell us the truth in the end, however long it takes. The only question you must ask yourself is how much pain you want to endure before you give us the truth. If you cooperate with us, then I give you my word you will live. If you persist in this foolish and pointless attempt to resist, then there will be torment, heaped upon torment, until you do tell us the truth. Then there will only be death.'

Vitellius reached down and lifted the pirate's chin. 'So you see, young man, the only sensible thing to do is accept that you will tell us what we need to know. Now, or later, it doesn't matter which. But you will tell us… Trebius!'

'Yes, sir!'

'Are you ready?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Back to work then.'

Ajax stared in horror at the interrogator. Then he clenched his eyes tightly shut for a moment and whispered, 'Petrapylae…'

Vitellius smiled and patted him on the head. 'Good lad.'

The prefect returned to the map and began to scan it closely. After a while he straightened up and turned back to his prisoner with an angry expression. 'There's no such place. Now tell me the truth, or-'

Cato stepped between them. 'Sir, the chart's one of ours.'

Vitellius glared at him 'So?'

'His first tongue is Greek. Petrapylae – the Gates of Rock, or something like that. Can I see the chart, sir?'

Vitellius waved a hand. 'Be my guest.'

Cato flattened out the map and glanced up the coast from their present position. Then he tapped his finger on the parchment. 'Here. This looks like it. The Gates of Stone.'

'Let me see that!' Vitellius hurried over, looked at the point Cato indicated, and nodded as a smile formed on his lips. 'That must be it.'

'Makes sense, sir. It's off the trade routes. There's an abandoned Greek colony there; mountains on all sides. The entrance looks narrow enough to defend well.' He shrugged. 'Of course there's plenty of other equally possible sites on this stretch of coast.'

Vitellius looked over his shoulder.'Supposing he's lying?'

'Then we keep him alive until we've reconnoitred the area, sir. If he's trying to mislead us we can always interrogate him again.'